


A Marauder's Tail

by SAYS



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-06-24
Packaged: 2019-05-28 01:48:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15038039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SAYS/pseuds/SAYS
Summary: For Jessi -- What does a rat, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley have in common? Why a sleepless night of course. ***Written for SAYS Facebook Fic Exchange***





	A Marauder's Tail

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Frumpologist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frumpologist/gifts).



> This is for you, Jessi. The very first person I met on HPFF all those years ago. Thanks for being such a wonderful friend and mentor. You can never understand just how much of an impact you had on my writing skills. Sure, I met more people through SAYS, and many different betas, but you never, ever forget your first. I know my story ended up being late (possibly the last one sent in!), but I wanted it to be perfect for you, and I allowed myself to get hung up on the little things. *hums a little tune* Thank you for being a friend.

The rat settled onto _his_ spot on the pillow. The cover, freshly washed by Mrs Weasley, smelt like summer after hanging outside the Burrow all day in the breeze. One of his comforts, he allowed his eyes to close blissfully. Scabbers tried to ignore the incessant snores from his inherited owner, a boy named Ron, but it just reminded him of that _thing_ that Sirius used to fly around on. He wiggled his butt, shifted around in an attempted to dig his head deeper into the case. To no avail, for Ron flipped over and actually pushed him off the pillow with a huffed grumble and he tumbled to the floor with a muted plop into a pile of dust between the bed and the wall.

 

Scabbers gave off a loud screech, sneezed three times in a row and screeched once more. Just like the _others_ , he wasn't given any respect. Why he had done what he had done, ultimately. It was all _James'_ fault really. Or _Sirius'_! The prats had left him all behind to muddle through after graduation. James all lovey dovey with Lily, then the baby took even more of his time. Sirius – well – Sirius just kept busy doing all those Order of the Phoenix things and ignored his very presence. Even Remus, poor werewolf, didn't spend too much time with him either. Hadn't they all joined the Order after graduation to be together?

 

Obviously _not._ And his nose wiggled and Scabbers sniffed after shuffling out of the barrage of dust – that still clung to the tips of his mousy, brown fur – and headed towards the kitchen. His _second_ most favorite place in the Burrow. He was hungry now after his kurplonk, and hopefully someone had left the cooling cabinet ajar so he didn't have to wiggle into the hole he gnawed into the garbage can and eat scraps. He wanted _cheese_ , glorious _cheese_. Maybe some of that ham that Ginny had dropped on the floor for him. She was a nice girl – nothing like those _boys_ that had – for _years_ forgot that he had to eat, too. He hoped Ron would be better, but, after being thrown to the floor, he doubted it.

 

Scabbers stomach grumbled as he entered the kitchen. His beady eyes scanned the room, and he sighed in his ratty way because he saw, with despair, that the cooling cabinet – his small heaven filled with all the _delicious_ goodies that Mrs Weasley created – was closed up tight and fairly humming with the chilling spell. Without his former, human magic, there was just no way he was getting in there. His furred lips frowned in concentration and his whiskers bobbed in beat with his thoughts. He really didn't want garbage scraps for his dinner. His stomach churned just imaging the waste left in the receptacle. He was no _normal_ rat, after all. Just a wizard, down on his luck, hiding out, stuck in his Animagus form because his wand got blown up in the aftermath his own blasting curse after his quick transfiguration. He'd thought it a brilliant idea, but now he had to wait until the Dark Lord returned to reveal himself to others to be restored.

 

The waiting was hard, though. Scabbers was as much as given up on the idea, but in giving into that thought meant being disloyal to the Dark Lord, and that would never do if he _actually_ did come back. He just had to be patient, suffer just a little longer. The Dark Lord _always_ rewarded those who were loyal to him. And, he was loyal, for sure. He'd given up everything he'd once held dear to prove it. Even a finger, and he lifted a ratty paw to look at where it had once been. His coup-de-grace move, and he'd only felt a slight bit of guilt about his mother. But if his mother truly loved him, she should have known he wasn't truly dead, and instead had mourned him on the cover of the _Daily Prophet_ holding his Order of Merlin, First Class.

 

Scabbers' nose again wiggled and he breathed in deeply, looking for something to eat. His lip curled at the slightly turned smell coming from his hole in the garbage can. Last night's dinner of spaghetti hadn't held up to well. That's when the faint aroma of almonds passed by him and he hurried towards the counter. He scampered up the scarred wood of the lower cupboards and paused in pleasure.

 

Mrs Weasley's almond biscuits with a sugar glaze drizzled on top of it. The cover was ajar, a spot on the corner empty of a few biscuits where one of the Weasley kids had already sneaked some. _Perfect!_ for then he wouldn't be blamed, right? It was Ron's fault anyhow, for feeding him before bedtime! Scabbers nudged his nose under the lid, and with a huff of effort, slid it over so that he could snake his way into the glorious aroma and goodness of Martha's biscuit plate. He planted himself next to the highest stack and began nibbling. He wished for a glass of chilled milk, but he was content.

 

“Scabbers!!” the rat groaned at the voice rattling the kitchen cupboards. “How did you get in there?” the voice chided. He felt a rush of air when the domed lid was lifted off. He scrambled to hold onto to his treat, but lost it. “You know Mrs Weasley wouldn't like rats, even if your a _pet_ in her food!” Harry Potter wrapped a hand around the erstwhile companion of his new friend and set him down on the counter. He also, after a brief pause, grabbed up _his_ treat and placed it on the ceramic tile with him. He watched as Potter, the son of his one time best friend, walk to the cooling cabinet and grab out a flagon of milk.

 

“Mrs Weasley told me I should make myself at home, _truly_ at home when I got here,” Harry told Scabbers. “I never expected the acceptance I got here,” he added and turned to grab himself a glass, “Where I grew up, I spent most of time in a spot under the stairs.” He sighed and turned again and pulled out a saucer. Scabbers, if he could have, would have raised both eyebrows in shock. Instead, his nose quivered and his paws rubbed together in anticipation. All of his desires given to him by a person he never expected to meet.

 

Harry Potter. Pouring him a saucer of milk along with a glass for himself. His whiskers got coated with milk when he dipped into it to drink. It was Harry's fault that James was dead, and he'd been forced to go into hiding. _His_ fault that the Dark Lord, his master, had disappeared. But, spying on a family that had been a member of the Order of the Phoenix had been his plan. Picking _the_ one that had taken in the Boy Who Lived became a bonus he hadn't expected, but now saw the potential. Just how rewarded would he be by the Dark Lord for what he could find out about his enemy? The one prophesied to defeat him. Which had, by some chance, already had. His little paws very quivered with the thought. He could rise high in the Death Eater ranks when – he couldn't even think _if_ \- the Dark Lord returned and gave him all that he learned.

 

It would be easy. He was just a rat, even though he was a wizard named Peter Pettigrew. No one would suspect him. He was dead, after all. Murdered by one of his other best friends who now languished in Azakaban for that crime as well as others. Who would hold their tongue in front of him. It was _brilliant. ___

__

__Just brilliant. As if the Fates had rolled it out for him on a red carpet of good fortune. Wrapped it up in a milk and biscuit blanket. All he had to do was listen. Like he was now, for no one expected any answers from him._ _

__

__“I can't wait to get to Hogwarts,” Harry commented and reached for one of the biscuits on the side of the tray that Scabbers hadn't sat on. “Fred and George – I can't tell them apart – have told me things about it. Told me to watch for a bloke named Filch and his cat,” His eyes scrunched up as he took a bite of the almond goodness, “Can't remember her name, Mrs Norbert?” He looked at Scabbers and shrugged._ _

__

__“It's Mrs Norris,” Ron said from behind them, “Oy, mate, what are you and my rat doing in the kitchen so late?” Ron asked, and reached out for a biscuit and tucked it in his mouth whole before Harry could say anything. He reached over for Harry's milk and took a sip. “We have to get up early or Mum will have our heads,” he reminded Harry and grabbed up another of the biscuits and placing the cover back over the remainders. “She always makes this _huge_ breakfast to tide over the leavers for the platform. Tomorrow, my pal, that means us!” He stood up and laid an arm over Harry's shoulder. “And I don't want to miss a bite if we're late. The twins are pigs about it,” he added and reached down and grabbed up the still lapping Scabbers from the counter. The rat wanted to bite Ron's fingers, for Harry had been talking, dishing up on what he'd been up to the past few years. But there was time, he supposed, for secret sharing._ _

__

__And, he would just lap it all up, like his milk he'd just been drinking. “Up, up the stairs,” he heard Ron say over the clinking of the dishware Harry quickly cleaned and put away. “Thanks for listening, Scabbers,” Harry said after they settled back into their sleeping spaces in Ron's room._ _


End file.
